


Out of the Flames and Into Desire

by GypsySisters



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Amnesia, Cullen is a Fireman, F/M, Firefighters, First Kiss, Foreplay, Heavy Petting, Kissing, Making Out, Mouth-to-Mouth, Partial Nudity, Sexual Tension, Sexy Times, Sleeping Together, i just needed to get this out of my system
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-26
Updated: 2015-08-04
Packaged: 2018-04-01 07:10:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4010617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GypsySisters/pseuds/GypsySisters
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cullen is a fireman. He saves Evelyn from a fire. They get it on.</p><p>UPDATE 7/31: I'm probably never going to finish this. Sorry, guys.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Flames were consuming everything. Decked in his firefighter gear, Cullen was protected from the burn, but he could still feel the heat. He swung back the portable ram and bashed in the door to the lab. The fire hadn’t reached in here yet, but there was no ventilation, and smoke was everywhere.

There were so many computers, so much hard metal equipment. Medical refrigerators lined one wall, with trays of vials and jars of fluid. Robotics equipment was strewn everywhere across the tables and floors, no doubt upset by the force of the explosion.

That’s when he saw her, laying on the floor, the broken shards of beakers scattered around her, and a wide gash bleeding on her upturned palm, blood pooling with whatever chemical she had been carrying.

Cullen carried her to safety. Once he got to the street, the ambulance had not yet arrived. _What was taking them so long?!_ So he laid her in the grass at a safe distance, removed his gloves and hood, and searched for signs of life. She was not breathing, and her pulse was thready at best. He started CPR, pressing on her heart through her ribcage, bending low to breathe from his lungs into her own. Several times he repeated, going between her lips and her heart, fighting for her life.

When she coughed and started heaving on her own, he leaned back, and sighed in relief, “Thank the Maker.”

Cullen looked her over. She may be breathing on her own, but she was still in pretty bad shape. He cradled her head, feeling for damage. There was a gash on her skull and blood was caked against her forehead. The cut on her hand looked infected. And her clothing was disheveled and covered in ash. Cullen noticed a name sewn onto the breast of her labcoat.

“Evelyn? Is that your name?”

Her eyes had been closed, her head spinning between unconsciousness and reality. At the sound of her name, she felt anchored. “Evelyn,” she repeated, the name sounding familiar yet confusing on her tongue. “I… _think_ …so?”

She looked up into his face. Soot smudged across his brow, sweat pulling curls out of his mussed golden hair, a wide smile breaking through his otherwise worried features. “It seems you’ve had a blow to the head. I’m relieved to see you’re still with us, Evelyn, or person-who-is-wearing-Evelyn’s-labcoat. It was touch-and-go there for a while.”

Another explosion boomed from the labs, and Cullen reflexively shielded her body with his own.

As she lay underneath him, all of the things she could not remember didn’t seem to matter as much as feeling his strong and protective body against her own. Maybe it was the adrenaline. Maybe it was the fact that he’d just saved her life. Maybe, with her head fuzzy, and her memories out of reach, she was just looking for something to hold onto that was real. In that moment, it didn’t really matter to her. She wrapped her arms around him and clung to him as the world around them burned.

Cullen felt her arms wrap around his waist and slide tightly around his torso. When the danger of the explosion seemed to have passed, he leaned up and surveyed the area, then looked down, finally, into her eyes. Inches away, she was breathing heavily, her pupils dilated, her mouth slightly open. There was fear mixed in her expression, for sure. She’d just been through hell, after all. But there was something else there as well; something that was growing now that he returned her gaze: a desire that shocked them both.

 _You don’t even know him_ , she thought, chiding herself. But the taboo of being drawn to a stranger just intensified her longing. And he was such an alluring stranger. His uniform undone, she could see the line of his neck and feel his strong and solid frame moving above her as he breathed.

“I…ugh…” he stuttered, looking around, rising up to sit beside her.

She let go her grip, releasing him out of her arms.

He rubbed his hand against the back of his neck. “The ambulance should be here shortly…”

“Of course,” she remarked,

“You really need to go to the hospital and have your wounds checked out. But I will stay with you until the medics come.”

She felt a sliver of fear rise up within her as she realized she couldn’t remember anything, nothing that had happened, or any people she might have known. She reached out and grabbed his hand. “Please,” she pleaded, “I know this sounds crazy, and we don’t really know each other, but please don’t leave me. I can’t even remember who I am!”

Cullen’s face was stitched with worry and kindness. He took her hands in his own. “My name is Cullen. I am the firefighter who carried you out of the Sacred Ash Research Center after a massive explosion. Your name is Evelyn, and you will survive this.” He paused before saying the last bit, looking down and away from her as he smiled, “And it would be my pleasure to stay by your side while you are at the hospital.”

She sighed, relieved, and squeezed his hands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ;) Sex will come soon...gotta wait a couple chapters.


	2. Chapter 2

It's true that Haven Memorial Hospital was just a small local hospital, but their staff was efficient and had amazing training in disaster response. All hospitals had been put through rigorous training since the terrorist attacks in Kirkwall. Even so, the speed and level of expertise with which they treated Evelyn was admirable.

For this, Cullen was grateful. He never wanted to experience the degree of chaos and death he saw in Kirkwall ever again. It had changed him, led to his breakdown and discharge from the Templar special forces. And, of course, that's why he was now working as a volunteer firefighter. He still wanted to help people...he just couldn't be a part of _that_ organization any longer.

Through every test and procedure, Cullen stood by Evelyn's side, holding her hand whenever possible, the strong reassurance of his grip calming her nerves. And, when he could not be in the room with her, he always stood in her line of sight, like a pillar of strength and certainty amidst an otherwise tumultuous ordeal. He was still decked in some of his gear: he wore a snug grey crew neck t-shirt with his engine house logo branded upon the left side of his chest; his turnout pants were secured by a pair of simple black suspenders. While he had freshened up briefly in the bathroom, there was still soot smudged on his toned arms and on the back of his strong neck. His hair was mussed, but Evelyn smiled to herself as she looked him over. He was adorable. He was strong and constant and completely adorable. And he put her at ease.

She had a slight concussion, needed multiple stitches, and the doctors had started her on a round of antibiotics to combat any possible infection from the wound on her palm, but she was going to be ok. There was no reason to suspect that her memory loss wouldn’t start to slowly trickle back over the next few days and weeks.

At one point in the day, Cassandra came by to get statements from those in the blast, and she brought Cullen a fresh change of clothes.  _The fire station was on the way_ , she’d insisted, when he’d texted her about what happened. And he was too tired to argue with her about it, so he accepted the kindness. Plus, he was thankful to have something more comfortable to slip into, since he would be spending the night. So, he exchanged his sweaty gear for a fresh t-shirt and pair of jeans, then swapped his heavy boots for a comfortable pair of Adidas.

After a long day of procedures, it was time for Evelyn to rest. She had been through so many rounds of tests and was exhausted from the day. Cullen sat on the edge of her hospital bed, and she reached out to hold his hand. "You should try to sleep," he said, rubbing his thumb over her knuckles.

"I'm so tired," she admitted, "but I don't know how I will be able to calm down after the ordeal we've had."

"What's on your mind?"

"I just..." the weight of all the questions she had been asking herself all day rushed over her, stitching her chest up with anxiety, making her catch her breath. She cast her gaze down in shame. How could she not even remember who she was?! "I don't even know where to begin..."

Cullen let go of her hand and cupped her face, running his thumb along her cheek and lifting her face up to meet his own. "It's ok, Evelyn. Tonight we sleep. Tomorrow we ask questions."He smiled. "Just close your eyes. I'm right here."

Evelyn looked uncertainly up into his face. His golden eyes were so calm, so confident. She wanted to touch him. She wanted to draw him near. She wanted to pull him close to her until all her feelings of worry were replaced with feelings of _him_. But, even in her state of shock and confusion, she recognized how inappropriate that would probably be. So, instead, she reached for his hand on her face, held it in front of her mouth, and placed one simple kiss on his knuckles.

That simple act of endearment sent shivers through Cullen's body. 

Then she continued to hold his hand as she closed her eyes and tried to steady her breathing.

He reached out with his free hand and smoothed the hair away from her face. Her hair was thick and dark and shone like ebony against her alabaster skin. Then, in a low and rich voice, he sang to her. Ferelden folk songs drifted through the room, in the sweet tenor of his voice, and Evelyn drifted off to sleep.

Once her breathing had slowed and he was sure she was asleep, he sat in the chair by her hospital bed and dozed off.

* * *

 

Cullen roused slightly when a figure came in the room and pulled the privacy curtain around Evelyn’s bed, the whirring metal clasps swishing across the curtain rod. He opened his weary eyes, let his vision adjust. There was an orderly, and he was hooking up a needle to her IV. His gaze lingered down the back of the scrubs, until he saw the orderly’s feet. He was not wearing crocks or loafers or sneakers, but military boots.

Suddenly, Cullen was wide awake. He rose, placed his hand on the orderly’s shoulder; and, before he could say, “Excuse me…” the man whirled around and punched him in the gut.

Cullen was no longer the tired man waiting in a hospital. He was no longer the firefighter who bashed in doors to save people in burning buildings. No. In that instance, his special forces training kicked in. He was ferocious, fast, and brutal. The “orderly” pulled a knife, and Cullen disarmed him within seconds.

They crashed into a tray of supplies, and Evelyn awoke with a scream.

The men exchanged punches. Blocking and dancing through the fight, Cullen subdued the man easily, twisting his arms around his back. Then he started interrogating him. “Who sent you?!”

The man laughed manically, but he did not answer Cullen. He would not tear his eyes off Evelyn. “You have that which was not meant for you,” he hissed.

Cullen turned him around and pushed him up against the wall. “I asked you a question. Who sent you?”

The man spat in Cullen’s face.

When Cullen turned his face away, he could see there were more men approaching in the hallway. This fake orderly was not acting alone. Cullen knocked him unconscious and turned to Evelyn, “Quick! It’s not safe here! We have to go!”

Shocked, she slid out of bed and took his hand.

“Now if we could only find a way to get past those men!” He rubbed his neck, exasperated.

Evelyn grinned, walking over to the wall. “How about this?” she asked, pulling down the fire alarm.

“Brilliant!” Cullen grinned, walking over and cupping her face in his hands, “You’re so brilliant I could…” but he broke off before finishing the sentence. _Kiss you…I could kiss you…Why do I want to kiss you so badly?!_

They stood there staring into each other's eyes for a moment. Then Evelyn summoned a bit of bravado, winked, and pulled a sly smile on her face, “Maybe another time.”

The both blushed, but then they turned their attention to the hallways. Enough patients and staff were filing along that they stepped out easily and hid in the crowd. Evelyn held Cullen's hand, and with her other hand she held her hospital gown together as they ducked between patients and nurses teeming through the corridors.

Cullen pulled out his cell, hit speed dial, and got an immediate reply. “I need an extraction. Now. … At the hospital. I’ll send you the coordinates. … We’ll be there.” Then he pulled Evelyn after him into the hospital locker room. “There’s no way to know how many guys are after you or what they want. The man who was sent into your room just now? He was a professional.”

“Cullen, what are we doing in here?”

“We are finding you a disguise. They’ll be looking for you in a hospital gown. We need to make you look…different. Look for clothes that might fit you.”

He started rummaging through the lockers, and came away with a baseball hat and some sunglasses. Evelyn had quicker success, however. When he turned around to bring her the accessories, she was already out of her hospital gown, standing there in her underwear. He couldn’t tear his gaze away. Her shoulders were slender and strong, curving elegantly over her chiseled collarbone. He breasts were full and plump. The lacy bra she was wearing lifted them up so they bounced with each movement she made. Her stomach was soft and lay on her abs, a smooth little belly, just round enough to be adorable. Her black little panties rested on her hips, barely covering her bottom; and oh what a fine ass, toned and firm. Her legs stretched down, shapely and curvaceous.

“Makers Breath!” he exhaled, taking her in.

She looked up, to see him ogling her, standing there, dumbfounded, and she blushed, pulling on a floral sundress from one of the lockers. “Oh give me a break,” she exclaimed, laughing. “I’m just a frickin’ lab rat; no beauty awards over her.”

Cullen snapped out of it. “Evelyn!”

“What?! I’m just being honest…”

“You remember being a lab tech!”

“Oh!” She exclaimed, excited. “You’re right!"

He walked over to her, holding her sides in excitement and looking wildly into her eyes. “Do you remember anything else? What you do? What you were working on?”

“’I’m a robotics engineer. I construct and test robots for practical application in the marketplace.’ OH MY GOSH that just rolled of the tongue, like I’ve said it a million times before. I build robots!”

“Ok,” Cullen grinned. “Hold onto that. It’s important.” Then he reached for the sunglasses and hat, “and wear these. Just because YOU are starting to recognize yourself, that doesn’t mean we want anyone else to.” He grinned, and winked at her.

They ducked out of the room and ran straight into two of the goons Cullen had spotted earlier. They recognized Evelyn immediately. One of them started swiped at Cullen, trying to get him in a choke-hold. The other bee-lined it for Evelyn. Thankful for her luck in the locker-room, she pulled out the one thing she hadn't had a chance to show Cullen, and tasered the goon. Wave of electricity riddling through his body, immobilizing him. Meanwhile, Cullen incapacitated his combatant with a swift series of punches. 

"Nice job," he grinned.

"Thanks."

They headed for the stairwell, but, instead of going down, Cullen led them to the roof. When they arrived, there was a helicopter waiting for them and they climbed inside.

“Taking your sweet time there, Curly! If you had taken much longer, I’d have flown off without you!”

“You would’ve done no such thing,” Cullen chuckled through the headset.

The helicopter lifted up and flew off, away from the hospital, while the mystery of who was hunting Evelyn still lingered in the air.


	3. Chapter 3

The helicopter landed outside of the city, and Cassandra was waiting for them in an unmarked car to take them to the safe house. By the time they pulled into the drive, it was late at night and everyone was exhausted.

“Tonight we rest,” said Cassandra. “Tomorrow I will return with breakfast, and we will discuss everything that has happened.”

Cullen extended his hand to her, and she shook it willingly. “Thank you for coming,” he said, in a low voice, “even though…”

“None of that matters now,” she interrupted him, and then her expression softened, “To tell you the truth, we aren’t sure exactly what kind of threat we are facing, and we could use your expertise. That is, if you would consider lending a hand.”

He stood back from her and straightened himself up. “It would be an honor.”

“The honor, commander, is entirely mine,” she stated, then stiffened, and saluted him before leaving.

An agent showed Evelyn and Cullen to separate rooms.

Cullen pulled the door shut behind him, started up a shower and washed the day off himself. After he toweled off, and slipped into a pair of boxers and a clean Tshirt, he sat on the bed, head in hands, thinking about everything that had happened in the past months: his discharge from the military, his struggles as he detoxed off the drug regimen his squad had been required to take. He had been part of an elite task force, the Templars, which engaged in top secret missions to preserve the interests of the Chantry…at all costs. Cassandra had not been on the Templar task force, but as a Seeker, she was part of the highest levels of military intelligence, and privy to the mission reports and duty records of all Templar agents. Cassandra knew the hell he’d been through, how he fought against corruption within the ranks and stood up against Meredith’s insane orders in the wake of the terrorist activity in Kirkwall.

Cullen’s thoughts were interrupted by a light tapping on his door. He opened it, to find Evelyn standing there, biting her lip. Her hair was loose and wavy, and it fell thickly over her delicate shoulders. In her arms were a pillow and blanket from her room. Her mouth was like two soft petals resting lightly on each other.

“Come on in,” he said and ushered her inside before closing the door. “What is it?”

She perched on his bed, where he had been just moments before, and didn’t look up from her lap as she spoke. The polyester comforter scratched at her palms. “I probably sound like an idiot. Or like I’m trying to come onto you or something," at this she looked up into his face, and he could see the rush of embarrassment in her expression, “Because I’m totally not trying to come onto you or anything. I mean. I wouldn’t even know how to…gah…” she dropped her face into her lap and smothered her voice with her pillow.

Cullen sat on the bed beside her and placed his hand on her back, “Evelyn?”

“Mwhhhwmmhwmhw.”

He grinned, “I can’t hear you through the piilow.”

She turned her face to look at him, and repeated herself, “Can I stay in here tonight?” Then she waited, with big, sad eyes.

“Evelyn,” he replied, pulling her up to face him. His hair was pulling into fresh curls, drops of water making the strands shine. His eyes were warm and golden. “I am here for you. Whatever you need, just tell me.”

“Thank the Maker,” she exclaimed, and threw her arms around him. “I just feel so…” she muttered as she buried her face into the crook between his shoulder and neck and squeezed him harder. “I couldn’t do this alone.”

Cullen held her tightly, leaning his head against her own. “You never have to be alone.” And as he spoke the words, he realized they struck a chord within his own heart. _You don’t have to be alone, either. At least not for tonight._

She leaned back from him and smiled, "Thank you, Cullen. I'm just so afraid of doing or saying the wrong thing and losing you. I know this sounds pathetic, but: you're all I've got."

He cupped her face in his hand and poured his gaze into hers. "You don't have to worry about losing me. The things that happened at the hospital...they were rough...but now that we know someone's out to get you, we will be prepared for them next time." Then he took her hands in his own and squeezed them with his next words, "Evelyn, I will never allow the events at Haven to happen to you again. You have my word."

She grinned. "You're like Aslan or something: showing up out of nowhere and saving me when I needed it most."

"Aslan?!"

"You know...from the Narnia series?" Evelyn blushed. "Fuck, did I just geek myself out?!"

"No...that's not it," he smiled, and absentmindedly rubbed his thumb along her knuckles. "It's just...I loved those books growing up. But...Aslan?" He looked at her quizically, "He was...like...their God!"

"Hah!" Evelyn snorted, and punched his arm. "It was just an analogy."

Cullen chuckled with her. The vibrancy emanating from her was infectious.

Evelyn got up and started rummaged through the drawers in his room, "Mind if I look for something to sleep in?"

"Not at all," he replied, rubbing his arm where she'd socked him; it didn't really hurt, but she definitely had more strength than you might expect from someone with such a tiny frame.

He went into the bathroom to brush his teeth and watched her from the mirror. Evelyn pulled out an over-sized T shirt and decided it was the best option for a mock nightgown. While he was still only steps away, she shimmied out of her dress. She could have shut the door, or waited for the privacy of the bathroom, but she didn’t. There she was again, her lithe body silhouetted by the lamplight, and it was impossible for him to pull his gaze away. Her panties were black and lacy, snug against her hips. As her hands reached behind her back to unfasten her bra, Cullen felt a need rise within him, felt the mounting heat and desire of his flesh as she pulled her bra off her body and dropped it on the floor, standing with her breasts silhouetted by lamplight for the briefest of moments before sliding a T shirt over her head.

He was no longer brushing. He had just been standing there, toothbrush clenched in his teeth, watching her from the mirror since she’d started undressing. She did it so simply, like it had been nothing. Did she have any idea what kind of power she held? From her calm demeanor and self-aggrandizing attitude, it seemed unlikely. 

She saw him staring at her at came over to lean against the door frame, smiling, "What's wrong with _you_?"

He rinsed and wiped his mouth. "Evelyn..." how could he talk about her undressing in front of him without sounding like a total creep?! He stammered, and rubbed the back of his neck. "I...uh..."

He checked her expression. Her deep chocolate eyes were wide, pupils dilated with affection, her eyebrows slightly raised, out of concern. And her entire posture was at ease, calm and unassuming. 

"It's nothing..."

"Are you sure?"

He chuckled, "Nothing is wrong, at least." And he made a fist and nicked her chin with his index finger's knuckle. 

"Good," she replied, "because I have a...favor...to ask." 

"Anything." And as he said the words, he was astonished at how genuinely he meant them.

She blushed and started stammering, “Can you…I mean…I was hoping…” she sighed and then just blurted it out, “Can we sleep in the same bed tonight?” She blushed again.

Cullen thought back to the last time she fell asleep in the hospital, only to awaken to someone trying to kill her. “Of course,” he smiled, and drew her into a polite and gentle hug.

She returned his embrace with gusto, and he could feel her loose breasts pressed against his torso. "I just...I feel so safe around you. And everything else is crazy right now." She nuzzled her face into him, "Thank you."

They settled into the bed and turned off all the lights, except for the one lamp on the bedside table. She curled up into his side, laying her head on his shoulder and her arm across his chest. He nuzzled his nose into her hair. She smelled like cinnamon and salt. He thought of her body in the lamplight, and pulled his hand up to her neck, weaving his fingers through her hair and massaging her scalp.

She ran her fingers over his chest and pressed her body against his, trying to get closer. She couldn’t get close enough. She rested her foot on his calf and ran her bare leg down the length of his inner thigh. The heat he felt earlier was returning, and in earnest. He moved his hand from her neck and ran it down along her back, feeling each groove in her spine.

She looked up into his face, smiled, then brought her thumb to his lip and ran it along the scar chiseled there. “How did you get this?”

“Before I was a firefighter, I used to be a soldier.”

“Wounded in the line of duty?”

“Something like that,” he grimaced, “I lost a lot of good friends in recent years. Thinking about the times we fought together, and realizing I’m still around, it’s hard. Some days it’s hard to find the strength to keep living, to keep pushing on. If I could lay down my life to bring one of them back, I’d do it in a heartbeat. So, instead, I try to save other people..." He realized he'd been rambling and staring off into the distance. He brought his attention back to her face and chuckled, "Forgive me. I doubt you were asking for a lecture."

"No," she smiled eagerly, "but if you have one prepared, I'd be happy to listen."

At that he chuckled again, "Perhaps another time."

She rested her head back on his shoulder and ran her fingers over the grooves of his muscles. Each movement of her touch was electrifying.

"Are you tired?" she asked.

"Not really."

"Me either."

He lifted his arm up to her back and drew her close in a brief embrace.

She let out a little sigh. He was warm and his presence relaxed her, put her at ease, and yet excited something deep inside of her belly. "Tell me about yourself, about your life."

"What do you wish to know?" he asked.

She asked about his time in the military, about what life is like for a soldier, and he answered as best he could, glossing over most of the pain from his past. Then she asked about where he grew up and his family, until finally, she realized she was holding her breath, a question burning inside of her. She finally blurted out, "And, is there anyone...I mean...do you have anyone...special...in your life?"

At that, Cullen genuinely laughed, and it shook her whole body, as she was pressed up against his own. "If I did, I can assure you, I would not be laying here with you like this, like we are now!"

And, before he knew what to expect, she had lifted herself up and placed a gentle kiss on his lip, where the scar cut down across his face.

Embarrassed by her own forwardness, and his shock, she blushed, looking down, and mumbled, “You've been through so much pain. You have so many scars. I hate to think of the pain it caused you, but if going through all those things helped make you stronger, helped make you who you are today, then I think your scars are just beautiful.” At that last word, she looked up into his eyes, questioning and full of hope.

Her words took his breath away. “Evelyn…” They searched each other's expressions as the moment hung in the air, punctuated by their breathing, faces aglow with the dim lamplight.

“Cullen,” she rasped. “Could you ever care for someone that you’d only just met?”

"Evelyn, are you coming on to me?" he teased, a wry smile on his face.

But her expression remained calm and serious, and her eyes searched him for answers, "I don't know. I just...Cullen...I truly care for you. It would scare me how plainly I care for you, except for the fact that nothing about you scares me."

Her brushed her hair away from her face and held her neck in his strong hand, "I thought about what I might say in this situation. Yesterday, while you were going through tests, and as you drifted off to sleep, I felt...I felt something I never thought possible..."

"And yet," she sighed, "here we are..."

"So we are," he smiled. "It seems too much to ask, but..." Her mouth was inches from his own. He cupped her face in his hands, and lifted his chin to...

 _BRING BRING BRING! BRING BRING BRING!_ The landline in the room started blaring. _BRING BRING_ _BRING_  ! "Oh, Maker's Breath!" Cullen muttered, exacerbated. He sat up to reach for the phone, and Evelyn sat up beside him, dangling her legs nervously off the bed. "What?!" He barked into the receiver, his voice thick with irritation, as he stood and paced in the room. "Do you have any idea what time it is?! ... Yeah. That's right. ... Tell Cassandra to bring the papers in the morning," and without so much as a "goodbye" he slammed the receiver back down. 

Nervous and thrown off her guard, Evelyn started to mumble, her smoldering companion standing right before her. "I didn't mean to...I mean...if you need to..." But before she could speak another word, Cullen wrapped her into his arms and pushed her back onto the bed, kissing her passionately. One hand was wrapped around her waist and the other cradled her neck, while her own arms were sprawled out, in undulating excitement. Their mouths were joined inextricably, his hunger devouring her surprise, until she yielded to the excitement and heat of the moment.

He leaned back up, presumably to catch his breath. "I'm sorry...that was...um...really nice." And he grinned like a giddy boy.

"That was perfect," she smiled sweetly. 

"Yes...well..." he grinned, and leaned forward to kiss her again, holding her firmly, pressing his strong hands against the curves of her inviting figure. He bit her lower lip playfully before pressing his mouth fully against hers again, sliding his tongue into her mouth where she met his with the muscle of her own wet desire, and slid her mouth against the inner-workings of his gyroscopic kiss.

Dozens of thoughts started crashing into Cullen's mind. _This is so reckless. She is still traumatized._

Their shirts were hitched up. He could feel the hem of her panties as her hip rubbed against his ribs. Her knee was pulled up, her leg hooked behind him, and her hand was resting lightly on his chest. His cock was hard, and she could feel the pressure of his arousal against her stomach. She felt a growing heat of her own, nestled between her thighs.

He smelled fresh, like soap and citrus. When she ran her fingers down his stomach and smiled, he sucked in his breath and clenched her hair in his hands. She was electric. There was no other word for it. Everything she did was electrifying.

She tugged at his shirt and pulled it up over his head, as he unfurled it from himself eagerly. Makers Breath, he was gorgeous. His torso was firm and strong; he obviously took excellent care of his body. She imagined how many burning building he'd rushed into, how many people he'd put his life on the line for. She ran her hands across his shoulders and kissed his collarbone, affection for him rising up out of her like a hot spring.

He lifted her chin up to his mouth and kissed her longingly, then slipped his hands beneath her shirt and ran his palms carefully up the smooth skin of her ribs, hesitating where the soft curves of her breasts emerged. He held her there. He could feel the soft and supple skin of her breasts at the edge of his thumbs. The sensation made him hungry, and he kissed her again, pouring his desire into her, as he cupped her neck with one of his hands and slid the other down to hold her at the small of her back.

Her hips bucked forward in response, arching her smooth back, as she looked into his eyes, longing heavy on her breath. He brought his lips down to her neck, planting kisses along her smooth skin, back behind her ears, eliciting moans and sighs from her eager lips.

 _We are both being so reckless._  His inner judge had returned. _She didn't even remember who she was yet._

He wasn't ready to let her go. Not yet. She leaned her face towards his, and he pulled her into a deep, passionate kiss. Their lips locked, then deepened, as she brought her tongue to explore his mouth, and he met her with his own. They slid their tongues one over the other, sucking and sliding as Evelyn lost track of her hands, and Cullen ran his over the length of her torso, to rest finally on her firm little ass. He hooked his thumb into the elastic of her waistband and slid it across her hips as she hitched up and into him, taking his upper lip within her own, sucking it between her lip and teeth and caressing it with her tongue.

She was wet with desire.

Then she slid her hands down and felt his erection though the fabric of his boxers. She ran her hand along the length of his shaft, and his body riveted in response.

He needed her. He had never needed anyone like he needed her in this moment. His need was absolute.

And she wanted him in return.

She pushed him onto his back. Straddling him, she started to kiss his neck, his chest, while grinding her sex across the his erection. He grabbed her ass and held her there. Her body was ripe and her desire strong. With each kiss, her heart opened and a tenderness poured out of her, a desire to be something sweet and loving for him in his otherwise harsh life. She wanted to make him feel the way he made her feel: safe. Then she worked her way lower and lower, shifting her hips back onto the bed, nestled between his legs. Her kisses were soft against the landscape of his skin, while her hands ran over the contours of his chiseled form.

_No. Not like this. She is too vulnerable, and you are taking advantage of her._

He growled, aware that his inner conscience was right. "Evelyn, I..."

She lay her arm against the waistband of his boxers and rested her chin on it, looking up at him over his torso. "MmmHmm?" she smiled lazily, her other hand running along his hip, down his upper leg.

"This is...we shouldn't do this." 

"Oh?" she asked, a little worry in her voice. She leaned up to get a better look at his expression, supporting herself up on her hands, "Is everything ok?"

"Yes...I mean...No...I mean..." he sat up in front of her, rubbing his neck. "You are...amazing," he smiled sheepishly at her, and touched her face. "Beyond amazing. I want you like I've never wanted anyone...but now is not the time."

"Ok," she smiled, and kissed him gently on the cheek. "I can wait."

"Wait...what? Just like that?"

"Yeah," she smiled, contented, running her hand through his hair. "Why not?"

"It's just..." he was hot and hard, and he knew that she was thick with desire, as well. Her T shirt was slouched over her shoulder. Her hair was a hot mess. She was so irresistibly sexy that it was making it difficult for him to think straight. "I'm not safe. _This_ isn't safe."

At that she chuckled. "Of course you're not safe. You're my lion!" Then she rubbed her thumb across the scar on his lip and smiled, kindly, more kind than anything he'd ever known. "You don't need to be 'safe'...you just need to be good."

With those words, she touched something inside of him that he had never felt before in his life. His heart unfolded, opening slowly, like a pair of fragile wings. He had no words. She'd taken his breath away with the earnest beauty of her entire being. So he kissed her once more, softly, drinking in her trust and faith.

“Do you feel better now?” He asked.

She smiled, “I feel like myself.”

He turned to look at her with a raised eyebrow, “You remember more about yourself?”

“Not yet,” she yawned, and leaned up to give him a peck on the cheek. “But I know who I want to be.”

At that, they laid down beside each other. He gathered her wild body to rest in the crook of his strong embrace. And they fell fast asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Damn it. Damn it all to damnation and back. This was supposed to be a quick 3-chapter story with lots of sex in the last chapter. But I wrote the sexy sex sex chapter and it just didn't feel...right. I mulled it over. Tweaked it again and again. Deleted huge sections and reworked others. And this is what I was left with...this scene is what felt "true to character" for the two love birds.
> 
> So. Angst. And restraint. And plot. And mystery. ;) And we'll have to see where the story leads.


	4. Chapter 4

Cullen was the first one to awaken. The events of the past two days seemed unreal as he ran them over in his mind. It was still dark out, and, as the world outside their room faded in and out of dreams, the stillness of early morning covered them, folding them into the promise of its oblivion.

As he shifted, Evelyn fussed in her sleep, instinctively drawing him nearer. Over the night, they had remained intertwined. Her legs were looped through his, her arm was wrapped around his waist, her head rested in the nook of his shoulder, and her hair had sprawled across his chest.

In that moment, all of his senses were attuned to her, following the pattern of her breath, huffing in her bright and salty scent. She was smooth. And warm. And soft.

Maker’s Breath, she was…impossible.

What rational man would allow himself to be in a position like this? He had slept with her, taken liberties with her. What kind of person did that make him? He would not betray her trust in him. He would not take advantage of her vulnerability. He would not overstep.

But he would also not abandon her. He felt her need, her fear, her deep and abiding uncertainty, and he knew he could at the very least offer her reassurance, offer her comfort and protection.

Cullen smoothed the loose hair back from her face and tucked it behind her cheek. Her head rose and fell with the rhythm of his breathing. He wanted her to sleep, to rest, to find solace before they faced whatever troubles the new day might bring.

And yet…

Echoes of her touch from mere hours ago ghosted across his skin. He rubbed his hand down her back, pulling her against him, and she sighed through her sleep.

_Stop it, Rutherford. Get it together._

He closed his eyes, rubbed his forehead, trying to center himself, trying to gather together his self-control. Why? Why was it so difficult? Why was he acting like  _he_ was the one that needed  _her?_ That made absolutely no sense. Sure, he carried his own brokenness inside of him. He had his demons, his addictions, his shortcomings and his struggles…but there was something about her that made him feel...something…

Oh! That was it! She made him  _feel_ .

He had coped for so long by shutting off his emotions. He took action, made steps, got things done. That was how he dealt with the world, with himself, with his place in society after the Templars. He chose something simple, humble and demanding: being a firefighter. He clung to his role, his duties, giving his life over to a vital purpose, a cause he could believe in even when he’d lost all faith in himself, something so simple and straightforward, yet that would take all of him. He felt like his own soul was too forgone, but he could at least save lives, real tangible lives. And that could give his waste of a life some semblance of meaning.

But, now, here, with Evelyn pressed softly against him, placing all of her trust so easily in his fumbling care, she pulled something out of him. She pulled _him_ out. She wanted _him_. She trusted _him_. And he found himself wanting to divulge in her, to reveal his true self to her, to show her all there was to know about his life, his past, his dark and troublesome secrets. He wanted to reveal his true nature to her. And maybe she would be appalled and withdraw and he would receive all the confirmation he needed to go on hating himself.

Or maybe, just maybe, she would want him anyways.

Evelyn awoke, Cullen’s chest shaking under her head. She looked around the dim room. Dawn was just starting to filter through the window blinds, casting a dull glow on the ceiling. She looked up into her companion’s face, his cheeks streaked with tears. Startled, confused, she rolled over and leaned up onto her elbows, her eyebrows pinched in concern. “Cullen, what is it? What’s wrong?” Instinctively, she reached up to wipe away his tears.

He hadn’t realized he was crying until her hand touched his face. He sucked in a breath, pressed his palms to his temple, and let out a frustrated groan.

“It’s ok,” she said, leaning up to him, kissing his wet cheeks, her lips catching his tears. “It’s ok,” she said, gently pulling his hands away from his face and placing soft kisses on his eyes, on his cheekbone. “It’s going to be ok,” she said, and kissed his cheeks, his chin, brushing the back of her hand along the other side of his face.

He caught her up, suddenly, in his arms and turned the tables, whisking her underneath him, placing her squarely on her back, and towering over her, his arms leaning up from the bed like two old pillars supporting a temple that had long since fallen into disrepair. She gasped, smiled up at him, flushed, and a gust of desire coursed through his bones, burning a layer of dust off the remains of his unused heart. Without hesitation, he collapsed on her, kissing her, burying himself in her warm embrace. As their mouths locked and unlocked—once, twice, three times—her legs wrapped around him and her fingers entangled with his hair. He ran his hands down her sides, holding her, pressing his body into her.

“Cullen,” she uttered, pulling her lips away from his in order to whisper into his ear. Her warm breath, drew fire threw his organs. “I want you.”

He groaned, burying his face into her shoulder, wrapping his arms around her back and pressing her as close as he could without crushing her. His need for her throbbed, consuming him. “I…can’t…”

He stood, swiftly, jolting away from the bed.

“Cullen,” she pleaded, and he stopped, his back to her. She swung her legs over the bed and sat there for a moment before talking soft steps to his side. “Talk to me,” she said. She wanted to touch him, to place her hand on his shoulder, to comfort him, but she didn’t want to spook him.

All he could feel was craving. This was the addiction, worming its way into every facet of him life, ruining him from the inside out. “I…can’t…You don’t know the things I’ve seen, the things I’ve done…” before he knew it he was at the wall, his fist was slamming into the door frame of the bathroom. His entire body was tense, his eyes were burning, and his head was pounding.

As he looked up, she leaned against the opposite door frame, catching his gaze. Her bare shoulder slid out from the neck of her oversized sleep shirt. Her hair was mussed and ratty. And she was regarding him with such compassion that his reservations fell away like a husk. He melted under the warmth of her soft concern. “Talk to me,” she reiterated.

His fist unclenched. His shoulders relaxed. He sighed. “I…I am really not a good person. If you knew who I really was, you would not be so ready to place your trust in me.”

She laughed, her voice like rain. “I should be one to compare yourself to! I don’t even remember who I am!”

“You think that makes you untrustworthy?!” he chided, looking at her with raw and deep longing. “No. It just makes you…so innocent.”

She blushed. “I may be many things. But I am sure that I am far from innocent.” She wanted to touch him. She wanted to reach out to him, to close the distance between them. “But that’s not what’s important. None of this is really important.  What matters is what you want. Now. In this moment. Do you still want to be that kind of person, the terrible person you claim you once were?”

“No. But…these memories will always haunt me. And, if they become worse, if I cannot control myself, if I become that… _monster_ …again…” Frustrated, he ran his fingers through his hand and clenched his skull. There were too many feelings, too many desires rushing through him, too many fears, too many ways he could wreak havoc.

Then he felt her hand, cool and tentative on him arm. When he looked up, he melted into her empathetic eyes. Her pupils were deep and dark, her lashes long and moist. “You have to hold onto something good. I think that’s the only way to wait out the darkness.”

He sighed, and leaned back against the wall, his gaze never leaving her face, until she leaned into him, wrapping her arms around his waist and placing her cheek flush against the bare skin of his chest.

“For today, let’s hold on to each other.” Her breath, liked a warm bird, fluttered against his heart.

“Alright,” he conceded.  He wrapped his arms around her, drawing her to him, and brushed his lips over the top of her head, kissing her crown. Maybe he could let himself need her a little, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for sticking with me during my long absence. ^_^ What do you guys think?? Will these two be able to save the world and save each other in the process???


	5. Chapter 5

“I don’t know why you _insist_ on making a mess.” Casandra sneered, her arms crossed over her chest.

Varric was bustling around the kitchen, chopping, whisking, cracking eggs and tossing the shells in the sink. The sizzle of butter and bacon popped out of skillets on the stove. He turned to greet the Seeker, grinning. “I suppose you think a box of donuts is a good way to start the day when you’ve just been on the run for your life?” His expression was smug as he glanced at the plastic bag dangling from her fingertips. “You _did_ just pick up donuts for our former commander and his companion…didn’t you?”

Cassandra blushed. He was right about the donuts, but she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of her defeat, so she only tipped her chin up a little more proudly, and plopped the bag down onto the table, next to the cup holder of steaming paper mugs she’d also brought in. The sides of the plastic bag sagged over the edges of the pastry box. “Everyone loves doughnuts.”

“Mmm. Ok.” Varric chuckled to himself, then turned back around and started preparing fresh coffee beans.

“I also brought coffee, so don’t waste the…” her protests were drowned out by the whizzing of the grinder.

She was preparing a pointed remark for the dwarf when she noticed Cullen and the woman, Evelyn, standing in the doorway to the kitchen. They were both dressed casually: Cullen was barefoot, wearing a t-shirt and jeans, while Evelyn was wearing the same sundress she’d had on last night, her feet also bare against the linoleum floor. Cassandra moved over to them and spoke once the noise died down. “I hope you slept well.”

Evelyn blushed and looked to Cullen, whose hand shot up to his neck. He rubbed it as he stammered in reply, “We…ugh…it was a…”

“Are those donuts?” Evelyn interrupted, pushing her way through to the table to take the box out of the bag and lift the lid. “Ooo! Bavarian Cream! My favorite!”

As Evelyn took a bite, the pudding squirted out the other end, and she caught it quickly with her finger. She balanced it by twisting her hand slightly in the air until she finished her mouthful of doughnut. Then she popped her finger in her mouth and gave a little moan as she licked the cream that dripping down her digit before it had a chance to trickle down to her hand.

Cassandra was too busy giving Varric a smug look. Varric was too busy rolling his eyes at the Seeker. Neither of them saw the tortured look on Cullen’s face as he watched Evelyn’s all-too-suggestive display. Neither of them saw his mouth slightly open, his quick intake of breath as he imagined, despite himself, her tongue caressing Other Places with its gentle licks. The memory of her from last night flashed into his mind: nestled between his legs, arms crossed along the hem of his boxers, looking up at him over the landscape of his exposed flesh.

As she was cleaning off her finger, Evelyn noticed his intent stare, registered the ache in his eyes, and she smiled at him before the blush flooded her cheeks and her gaze fluttered down.  She pulled her finger out past her lips, looking back up at her admirer with a soft grin. “There are plenty of flavors, Cullen. What’s your favorite?”

“Curly isn’t into the sugary sweets; isn’t that right, commander?”

Cullen released a sudden guffaw, “No one has called me ‘commander’ in a long time, and I don’t see why now would be any time to start.” Cullen made his way over to the stove to peek at Varric’s progress with the savory breakfast.

“Omelets, bacon, fresh coffee, and hash browns in the oven. It will all be ready in about…oh…” Varric leaned back to take a peek at the wall clock. “…about another ten minutes.”

Cullen took in a huff of the aromatic meal, and his shoulders slightly relaxed. “Sounds good.” Then he turned his attention towards the table and the coffee waiting there. Nestling a mug out of the cupholder, he took it with him as he pulled a chair around the table to where he’d have a better view of Varric at work, instead of sitting with his back to the stove.

Incidentally, the new spot was right next to Evelyn. She smiled to herself and took another bite of her doughnut.

Cassandra was securing the lid back on her own coffee cup, after having stirred in a milk and two sugars. She addressed Evelyn, “We spoke already in the hospital, but there was not much to put in the report. You had suffered a minor concussion and had amnesia at the time. Have you been able to recover any of your memories since then?”

Evelyn felt disarmed by her own lack of awareness about her life. She looked down at the table, sad and at a loss. “I am getting…flashes…of things.” She traced her finer in some of the powdered sugar that had brushed off her doughnut. “The memories come when I least expect them, as if hunting makes them hide. If I ignore them, however, they pounce on me and curl up on my lap…like a cat, or something.”

Cassandra placed her hand over Evelyn’s, steadying her, causing her to look up into the Seeker’s eyes. “We will figure out what happened the day of the explosion, we will figure out why you were pursued, and we will keep you safe, in the meantime.”

Evelyn smiled into her eyes. “Thank you.” She felt…relieved. More connected. More secure. She leaned back in her chair. “So…what now?”

“We’ll discuss how to proceed over breakfast, but we are waiting for a few other…” as if on cue, the sound of tires on gravel came up the driveway. An engine turned off, and two car doors slammed. Cassandra rose and went to the window to peek out at the arrivals. “Ah, yes. They are here.”

The first to enter was a tall elven man, bald, but with an otherwise fresh complexion. His beady eyes were set behind eyeglasses on a thin wire frame. His bow-tie was vintage, but the fabric was faded. His jacket was also outdated and fraying at the edges. Evelyn smiled to think that, perhaps, he’s worn the same wardrobe since the Seventies, but he wasn’t nearly old enough for that to be the case. More likely, he thrifted the ensemble; and, since it didn’t adhere to current fashion trends, it pegged him in her mind instantly as someone who just didn’t give a fuck what other people thought about him. And she liked him instantly for it.

He caught the glimmer in her eye and returned it, smiling of his own accord.

The next to enter was a redheaded woman with a stylish bob. Where the man’s clothing was faded and borderline frumpy, the woman’s ensemble was stylish and understated. A cashmere sweater in a deep eggplant hue clung to her curves and lay open across her swooping shoulders. Her dark-wash jeans flared slightly at the heel, where the polished tips of leather boots peeked out. “I’ve heard everything there is to know about you,” she smiled, her voice thick like wine. The nuances of the Orlesian accent rolling off her tongue like a siren’s call.  She extended her hand to Evelyn, who shook it silently. The woman laughed, “And, yet, you have no idea who I am. My name is Leliana, and I deal in…how should I put it…?”

“Leliana is our Spymaster,” Cassandra interjected.

“Ah, so eloquently stated,” the redhead chided, tossing an irritated glance Cassandra’s way. “I am the director for the regional branch of the CIA.”

Evelyn’s memory was a little fuzzy around the edges. “The CIA? That sounds familiar…but I can’t quite place it.”

Leliana laughed, “CIA stands for: Chantry Intelligence Agency.”

“So, you’re affiliated with the Seekers? Or…?”

Cassandra snorted. Leliana gave her a look, then turned her attention back to Evelyn. “The Seekers work outside of Chantry jurisdiction and act as a sort of…regulatory group. The work I do has less to do with oversight and more to do with…acquisition.”

The elven man stepped forward, his voice lilting over his words, echoing the rhythms of iambic pentameter, “My name is Solas, if there are to be introductions. I am pleased to see you still live.” He extended his hand, which Evelyn shook readily; he had a firm but gentle grip.

Cassandra elaborated, "Solas is here to offer his expertise on the research that was being carried out at the Sacred Ash Research Center."

He turned to Cullen and nodded, “Commander, it is a pleasure to meet you in person.”

“Just call me by my name,” Cullen sighed, “I have not gone by that title for long enough, and I do not wish to resurrect it.”

“That may be so,” smiled Leliana, “but after we have a chance to go over the intelligence regarding the explosion, you may finally take Cassandra up on her offer to join us in a more official capacity.”

“Nobody is going to start bringing up conspiracies and evil plots until these two have some food in their stomachs.” Varric was standing at the head of the table, skillets in hand. “And breakfast is served!”

The group relaxed over greasy bites and sugary fingers, chatting, getting a feel for each other, building rapport. While the din of conversation was ringing in the air, Evelyn leaned over to whisper in Cullen’s ear, “I’m so glad you are here.”

He reached under the table to find her hand resting on her thigh and squeezed it, out of sight of the others. He looked at her, soft and sweet and tender, even now. She kept a fire burning within him. And he was certain: he did not want to be anywhere else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little character development! And new cameos!! I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. :) I know it's short, but I wanted to go ahead and get something published. Maybe there will even be some plot in the next chapter!
> 
> Loving all the comments. You guys are just dolls!!!


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